


Enchanté

by K_85



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2020-11-07 18:11:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20821634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_85/pseuds/K_85
Summary: Two households, both alike in dignity...Jon and Arya take one look at each other and the game's up for them. She's a Stark, he's a Targaryen, their fathers hate each other.What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Thunderbolt

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as how 'The Pack Survives' is nearing its end, I have decided to upload 'Enchante' as promised.
> 
> The story might be tweaked here and there, but no major plot differences :D

People were laughing, dancing and socializing. The night was young, champagne was flowing; and, Jon, sitting on a plush divan with his girlfriend wrapped around his arm like a boa constrictor wondered -just what the hell had he been thinking.

As a Targaryen, he'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Though, occasionally he felt like he would rather choke on the so-called 'silver-spoon'. His father, Rhaegar Targaryen was the head of a Fortune 500 company with a name that went back centuries to boot. 'Old Money' was what most people termed it.

His mother had left when he was a child, not that he could blame her. His father wasn't exactly the most sensitive of human beings. Rhaegar was many things, but feeling wasn't one of them. That left him and Aegon. His brother from another mother...literally. Not surprisingly, Aegon's mother hadn't stuck around very long either. With two male heirs already present to inherit the business, Rhaegar didn't bother tying the knot a third time, to the eternal gratefulness of his company's directors. His father's divorces had been quiet but very, very costly. His wives received copious amounts of alimony and Rhaegar had secured his heirs.

They'd been brought up in luxury, attended Ivy League schools and were now the rising stars of Targaryen Corp. But, Aegon was an alcoholic in the making and he was...well he was probably dead inside.

Oh, the joys of being the elite. He must have attended at least a thousand oppressive bashes like the one he was stuck at presently. Beside him, Ygritte, his 'Victoria's Angel' super-model girlfriend was chatting away with Margery Tyrell.

It was hilarious how utterly unmatched they were. He could have slit his wrist and quietly bled to death beside her, and it wouldn't have made a dent. He prolonged the break-up and put up with all her demands mostly because...he stopped giving a shit long ago.

Across the room, he spotted his brother, who wore his 'what were you thinking' expression while sporting a shit-eating grin. Jon was tempted to flip him off, but instead, he raised his drink and Aegon reciprocated. Jon noticed Ygritte's grip had slackened somewhat and chose to act. He extricated his arm from her hands with a move that would have done Houdini proud and before Ygritte could blink, he had made his way across the room to the bar where Aegon stood.

'Finally escaped have we?', was the first thing out of Aegon's mouth.

'Eat shit brother', Jon said while sliding his now empty glass towards the bartender for another bourbon.

Aegon threw his head back and laughed. For a minute his brother looked young again.

'Why don't you just tell her Jon? Also, easy on the booze...I'm the resident alcoholic remember?' Aegon said as he saw Jon put away the second glass rather neatly.

'I don't tell her because I couldn't care less. A legacy courtesy of our father I think. The thought is enough to drive anyone to drink', Jon said.

'You're nothing like him. Neither of us is. It's probably why we're such disappointments'.

'Thank God for that and on that note, I'll have another to celebrate'. Jon motioned for the bartender to fill both their glasses.

'I'd be impressed if I wasn't worried. You are especially sulky tonight infant'.

Aegon tended to refer to him as infant when he had his 'bouts of brooding'. If it wasn't for the fact that he'd probably have thrown himself over their penthouse by now if he had been an only child, Jon would have kicked Aegon right in the jewels.

Instead, he heard Aegon state 'Holy R'hllor! Isn't that Gendry Baratheon? Knew him at Harvard, he was big then. Now he's a freaking monster'.

Jon turned his head to look at the entrance and felt his world explode. Next to the 'freaking monster' stood someone who looked like all his dreams wrapped into one beautiful, provocative and heart-breaking package.

She wasn't very tall but, Dear God, what she lacked in height, she made up in other ways. Her hair was a gorgeous mussed river of black, flowing past her shoulders to mid-back. He had never actually had a preference when it came to eye-colour, now he thought beautiful grey eyes like chips of ice glimmering in the sun might be the only colour he'd ever like. Her face wasn't the most beautiful he'd seen, though now that he'd seen her - none of the other faces mattered.

She glowed with a beauty that was entirely her own. He saw her laugh and felt the colour slowly return to his life.

'What's wrong with you?' Aegon asked nudging him with his elbow. 'You look like you've just been hit by lightning.'

What was it the French called it?... 'coup de foudre' -thunderbolt -love at first sight. Jon felt like laughing. From feeling nothing to this...the irony.

'Who is that? Next to Gendry?' Jon asked in a daze.

'Hmmm....dark hair, grey eyes...Dear God! That's Arya. Robb's younger sister' Aegon said.

'Robb who ?'

'Robb Stark, you know, the heir apparent to Stark Industries'.

'You're friends with Robb Stark?' Jon asked incredulously. 'Don't our fathers hate each other?'

Aegon smiled. 'Why do you think I made it a point to be his friend? To be honest, he's a brilliant guy. Went over to their estate a couple of times too. That's how I know Arya. She was a tiny sprite back then....why do you want to know though?'

'I think I'm in love' Jon said.

Aegon choked on drink and stated, 'Fate must hate you brother. She has three very protective brothers, a bull for a boyfriend, not to mention her father can be a bloody nightmare when he wants and here you are - a Targaryen in love with a Stark'.

Then Aegon all but sputtered with laughter.

Jon didn't even blink at his brother's remarks. Arya Stark - the name suited her. She could've been an alien from Mars and it wouldn't have made a difference. Stark, Tyrell, Martell - it didn't matter. She was his. He'd make sure of that.


	2. Serendipity Personified

The next time Jon saw Arya Stark, he was caught off his guard yet again. 

Ygritte dragged him to some contemporary ballet and Jon's patience had just about run out when he saw the prima-ballerina. His little thunderbolt was a ballerina...a dancer. It was no wonder she moved so gracefully, he thought. He sat through the show mesmerized and when the show was over he escorted Ygritte back to her apartment.

Once there, Jon told her he was leaving her. She'd acted surprised, she'd shouted and had even produced a tear or two. Once she saw that nothing she did was leaving any sort of mark on him she slammed the door on his face saying, 'You're a cold bastard Jon, cold like snow!'

Jon, on the other hand, thought about how he was now officially free to pursue the love of his life, and, how he had never felt warmer.

* * *

The third time he'd run into Arya Stark, he hadn't truly meant to. There he was on a quiet street driving his Jaguar to work when out of nowhere, a grey mini cooper appeared and rammed straight into his pride and joy. 

He was about to tear the other driver a new one when he noticed Arya stepping out of the other car. Almost immediately his brain took a back-seat and his heart all but raced out of his chest. 

The first words out of his mouth were 'Are you alright?'

Whereas, the first words out of hers were 'A Targaryen...I should have known'.

'I could say the same, Stark', he said trying to his damnedest to play it cool. She knew him. SHE KNEW HIM!!! screamed his brain.

'This is all your fault. You came out of nowhere!', She said.

Jon couldn't help it. He started laughing. She was adorable. She looked at him like he was a lunatic.

'Not going insane on me are you Targ?', she asked.

Jon with tears of mirth streaming down his face pointed to a sign at the end of the road that said two words -- 'ONE WAY'

Arya turned to read the sign and the words that left her mouth were to the effect of 'Seven Hells...not again!'

'Made a habit of this sort thing have you?' Jon asked, still grinning like an idiot.

Arya turned around and glared at him.

'No...I have not made a habit of this. It's just that, well, I just had the car repaired from when I accidentally backed into Robb's Mustang, _ ugh _...my family will never let me live this down'.

'A mustang, now a jaguar - I'm beginning to see a pattern here. Just for the sake of information exactly what sort of a mustang was it?'

'A shelly 250 or something. Look, I'm not a car aficionado' said the love of his life, looking adorably frazzled.

Jon felt his heart break for her brother. 'You couldn't possibly mean a Shelby gt500?'

'Yeah, I think it was. I think Robb might actually have cried a little. I offered to pay for the damage but he just stood there staring at the dent', Arya said.

'You backed into the man's Shelby gt500, trust me, a few manly tears were well warranted. Allow me to say your brother loves you, no, I mean he really does love you. If it was me, I'd have beat my brother to a pulp and then I would have set his ass on fire. That car is - it is a masterpiece', Jon told her solemnly, in solidarity with every male everywhere.

'What is it with you Targaryens and fire?' she asked curiously and just then a wild cacophony of horns blasted them nearly deaf.

'I think we need to park to the side and ...'

'Look, I need to leave, I'm running late. My practice probably started 10 minutes ago' she said.

_ 'No, no - don't let her leave just yet' _ his brain screamed but before he could say anything she'd whipped out a card and asked him to meet her at the address later to sort out the insurance details.

Jon stood there watching, while still being driven deaf by the blast of horns as she got into her car and drove away. 'Hey, Einstein! Get a freakin move on' another driver screamed at him as he walked to his Jaguar. As he shifted the gear to drive, Jon rolled down his window and stuck his hand out and giving the driver behind him the universal greeting all drivers gave each other occasionally.

Of course, a part of him wanted to follow her to the address straight away, but then he didn't want her to think of him as some sort low-life or worse a stalker. He decided to show up at the studio around lunch. Ballerinas did eat, didn't they?

His introspection was cut short, however, as his cell started to ring and the lyrics of Shakira's 'Loca' began to play.

He sighed as he accepted the call - only one asshole was brave enough to mess with his phone.

'You're late again infant. What would daddy dearest say?' Aegon's smarmy tones filled the interior of his car.

'Stop messing with my phone, ass wipe' Jon retorted.

'Ah. I see you've discovered the new ring-tone. Truth be told, I was hoping to make that song play in the meeting this morning, a truly inspiring opportunity was missed. Where are you? Imbibed a little too much, did we?'

'I can handle my liquor, thanks to you. I was on my way to the meeting when someone crashed into my car' Jon said.

'Someone crashed into your car, as in, your precious little baby? The only positive relationship you have in life is with that car. Are you ok? Do you need a hug, infant?' Aegon goaded with a voice that was positively dripping with sarcasm.

There were times, Jon thought when the prospect of fratricide looked incredibly appealing.

* * *

Lunchtime found Jon parking at the address that Arya had provided him. As he entered the studio he found the receptionist giving him a come hither smile. He walked towards her desk feeling mildly threatened by the predatory smile she had on when he saw a group of people exit from one of the doors that led further inside the complex.

Among them was Arya Stark, who looked even more appealing since last he'd seen her, which had been approximately 4 hours ago.

She saw him and briefly turned to speak with the group she was with before walking in his direction.

'Hello again' Jon said flashing his pearly whites. He'd been told his smile was a plus point and he knew he needed to bring his A-game. Only her reaction wasn't exactly what he'd hoped for. She seemed completely unmoved, though she did offer him a small smile.

'Hi. I'm sure you're busy, so we can have a seat right here and exchange our details' Arya said motioning to the chairs in the waiting lounge.

The exchange of details he had in mind required a more intimate setting, still, he calmed his hormones and said instead 'Tell you what, how about you have a cup of coffee with me and we'll pretend none of this ever happened? I'll even take care of the repair for both the cars'.

'Are you serious? Your car is a- a Panther you said' she looked delightfully confused as she continued, 'It rather looks like Robb's car as well. Fixing it will cost an arm and a leg at the very least - so why would you..?'

While the dignity of his car begged to have him correct her on the confusion about the name of his baby, there were more important things in life he thought. 

'Well we can't really deprive the ABA of their prima-ballerina now, can we? Your arms and legs will be quite safe I assure you. Just a few moments of your time and no one will ever know about how the accident happened...not even Bran.” Jon said interrupting her.

'How do you know about...'

'There's a really nice little cafe just around the corner. How about we continue this conversation there?' Jon asked. 'It's not a bad deal all around'.

Without saying a word Arya walked to the exit and opened the door to walk out. Jon's heart sank and his smile melted, a strikeout in round-one. _ 'That's a first' he thought. _

Just before she stepped out Arya turned around, smiled and said the sweetest words he'd ever heard, 'Well...aren't you coming?'


	3. When the stars align

Jon observed Arya as she placed her order. Of course, he didn't actually hear a word she said; but, her lips and the way they moved had him mesmerized. Once the waiter had taken both their orders, he walked off leaving the two of them alone...finally. Jon would have been content to sit there staring at her the whole time, however, he did not want her to think of him as a psychopath (his family's reputation had already seen to that). Trying to appear all suave, he tried to look around the room to keep his eyes off of her.

  
'Looking for someone?' he heard Arya ask.

  
His eyes snapped back to her and he felt a smile form on his lips automatically. At this rate he felt certain that soon his jaw muscles would rival those of Arthur Dayne's.

  
'Not really. I felt like I should probably stop staring at you'. He paused, did...did those words actually come out of his mouth. Who was this dumb-ass currently in possession of  
his body? Before he could mentally berate himself further, he saw Arya turn a delightful shade of pink and grin. Could it be, he wondered. Had he finally found a female who appreciated his twisted candor?

  
'I think I saw you at the Tyrell party on Saturday. Are you friends with them?', Arya asked trying to get a conversation going.

  
The day just kept on getting better, Jon mused. She had noticed him as well that night. Wait, did that also mean she had seen him gawking at her, nay, devouring her with his eyes? Instead of dwelling on that depressing thought further he focused on her question.

'Friends is a very strong term. Aegon and I keep meeting Willas and Loras more often than not because of business. Generally those meetings result in social invitations but that's about it. To be honest I'd sooner not run into Olenna Tyrell. The way she looks at me makes me feel like she's sizing me up to be Margery's groom no.3'.

  
Arya laughed. 'Frankly, I think she looks at all eligible young men like that. Except for Robb. She says he's beyond help. Robb and Jeyne have been together for about four years now'.

  
This was good, Jon thought because suddenly they were talking about couples and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to very slyly ask her if she was dating the 'monster'.

  
'Yeah, Aegon told me about how Robb met his fiancee while they were at Harvard. Speaking of Harvard, was that Gendry you were at the party with?' Jon asked feeling rather proud of himself of steering the conversation to his advantage.

  
'Yes, Gendry is an old friend. We practically grew up together...I mean our fathers keep hoping it'll lead to something more. But Gendry and I are just really good friends', she replied.

  
'Ding, Ding, Ding' said a little voice in his brain. She wasn't dating Gendry. 'JACKPOT'!!! But that did not mean she wasn't dating anyone else an impish voice whispered. However if all his time in business school had taught him anything, it was that there was no chance of gain without some element of risk. The only way to be completely sure was to ask her out himself.

  
'Speaking of fathers...ours aren't exactly the best of friends' Jon said. 'Targaryens and Starks have been rivals for far longer than I care to remember...but...ah, that is, I hope you won't let that stop you from...doing this again, um ...with me?'

  
'Doing this...?' Arya asked.

  
'You know, seeing each other...ah...socially' and after that bit of smooth-talking Jon wondered if the 'internal facepalm' was something that actually existed.

  
'Just to be clear, you know, so there aren't any misunderstandings...are you asking me out?' Arya asked looking rather smug.

  
'Yes, I am' Jon replied nodding.

  
Arya 'hmm-ed' and suddenly looked serious. 'Well, you realize I'm Ned Stark's favourite daughter. My brothers are varying degrees of psychotic and don't even get me started on my mother and sister'.

  
To which Jon replied incredulously, 'Have you met my father?'

  
'Touche. Not easily intimidated then? Good, I like that. Well then, how would you feel about dinner tomorrow night?' 

There were times in life when everything naturally fell into place, when the planets were aligned and fortune favoured you above all. Jon considered that exact moment to be one of of those times. All that was missing was the entire philharmonic playing in the background. He didn't really recall much of the conversation that followed after that. After he had convinced himself that the love of his life had, in fact, asked him out to dinner, he couldn't have agreed fast enough.

  
He escorted Arya back to her studio after they'd finished their lunch and then he floated back (drove back if one was being disgustingly practical) to the office.

At the office, when Jon told Aegon that he had asked Arya Stark out to dinner, his older brother looked impressed.

  
'I have to hand it to you little brother. You certainly work fast'.

  
'Hey...this is different. I'm in love with this girl. I wasn't 'working' fast...I was desperate. I'm still a little shell-shocked that she actually agreed to go out with me'. Jon thought it better to not tell his brother that it was Arya who had done the actual asking. 'Semantics, really', he thought.

  
Aegon smiled at him, the kind of smile he rarely used (because it was warm and genuine) and said, 'I'm happy for you, infant. Truly, and don't go putting yourself down. You're one of the most eligible bachelors this city has to offer who isn't a complete tool'.

  
'Thanks...I think', Jon said sounding unconvinced.

'What I meant was...she's a lucky girl. When we Targaryens love...', Aegon tried to explain.

  
'Don't you mean 'if?'

  
Aegon glared and continued, 'If' he emphasised '..we Targaryens love, we love from the depth of our hearts...though sometimes I'm not sure if we actually are capable of love...or of having hearts'.

  
'That has to be the worst damn speech I've ever heard. But, yeah thanks...I appreciate the sentiment behind it' Jon stated.

'Yes, well, now that we have that out of the way...let's get back to what we're actually renowned for'. Evil Aegon was back apparently.

  
'Bat-shit crazy...?' Jon supplied helpfully.

  
Aegon shook his head and looked disappointed, 'For getting what is ours infant, with fire and blood. Well, not actual fire and blood...because you know...'

  
'Yeah, yeah because that would just be demented'. Jon said sarcastically opening his laptop.

  
'Who is the poor bastard we're going after this time?'

  
Aegon smiled evilly and said, 'Two words...Tywin Lannister'

  
After a long silence Jon felt himself express his surprise in the following words, 'Well...light me on fire and call me a Targaryen. That's ambitious'.


	4. Lament of the Legume

As Jon parked his car outside the restaurant of Arya's choosing he couldn't help checking his phone again to make sure he'd come to the right place. While he hadn't exactly had a middle-class upbringing, he was still friends with people from all walks of life. It was one of the few things he was proud of about himself. 

However, all that paled in comparison to the uniqueness of the place Arya had picked. The restaurant was named 'Inn at the Crossroads', though what was ominous was that it was situated in a secluded part of the city with no hint of a crossroad anywhere in sight. The lighting left something to be desired as well, with the neon lights of the name blinking and lighting up only the 'at the crossroads' part.

He berated himself mentally for his trepidation as he got out of his car and decided to take off the jacket of his suit. He didn't want to walk in there wearing an invisible sign stating 'schmuck' and since a change of attire was out of the question he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he walked towards his destination. 

If the lighting outside was unwelcome, the ambience inside the restaurant took him by surprise. The interior was folksy and comfortable. It wasn't a terribly big establishment, so he spotted his date right away. Tonight, she was dressed in an elegant ensemble of red and black. Red and black ...were often referred to as the 'Targaryen' colours he was told, though that might have something to do with the fact that his father and grandfather were slightly prone towards theatrics when it came to their dressing. Still, he decided to take it as a good omen and besides the love of his life looked brilliant in whatever she wore (in all of the five to six times he'd actually seen her).

She spotted him as he walked towards her and smiled. Upon reaching the table, he bent and kissed her on the cheek...surprising himself and her. He hadn't meant to do that, but somehow he was compelled to kiss her as soon as he got within touching distance. He remembered that this was their first date, and, that perhaps he might have been overly familiar. But, when he looked carefully at Arya's face all he could detect was a faint blush and thankfully no signs of recrimination. 

'Do you make it a habit of keeping all your dates waiting for you?' Arya asked as he seated himself. He grinned, he'd ran at least two red lights getting to the restaurant and told her so. 

'I don't know this neighbourhood all too well' he confessed. At which Arya grinned.

'My, my, only the finest dining for the Targaryen duo, is that it?'

It was Jon's turn to blush, 'Honestly, I have friends all over the city. Strangely enough, before today I would've said I know this city like the back of my hand. But you have a talent for surprising me'.

It seemed his little wolf (a moniker in honour of her beautiful eyes and Northern heritage) had a little streak of vaingloriousness as he caught her pleased little smile and felt his own form in reply. The conversation kept flowing between them like heady wine - pleasing and intoxicating all at once. He learned that besides dancing Arya loved fencing, horse-riding and hunting, with real bows and arrows (a Stark tradition at New Years). The hunting bit gave him pause, her family hunted - they killed actual live animals with a bow and arrow and cooked what they ate; and, here he was, the closest he'd come to hunting anything was running after a particularly belligerent turkey at his aunt's house at Thanksgiving. He made a mental note to take to archery classes at the earliest opportunity. He, in turn, told her that he shared her love of horse-riding and fencing, but apart from that, the real joy of his life was reading. When he was a child growing up in the absurdly vast and cold Targaryen estate, the library had been his favourite hiding place while playing with Aegon. He had started reading during one particularly long 'hide' and hadn't given it up since. Before the conversation could move forward, a waiter appeared with two trays laden with food. 

'I took the liberty of ordering the dishes that this place is famous for' Arya said, 'I hope that's okay'.

To which Jon replied, 'It's more than alright. How about the next time I choose the restaurant and order for the both of us?' (he felt pleased with himself and the sly way he'd worded that question). 

When Arya grinned and nodded he felt even more pleased. The restaurant's speciality was a beef Bourguignon pot pie and after a bite of the pie, Jon understood why. The pie was sensational. The beef was juicy and tender...the spices were aromatic and heavenly. It wasn't until the fourth of the fifth bite that an unbearable itch had developed in the back of his throat. Jon tried to clear his throat gently, to get rid of the itch, but to no avail. The wine didn't help either and finally, Jon was reduced to make an extremely uncomfortable sound (along the lines of '_kkkhhhhhhh_') to alleviate the itch. When he looked at Arya to apologize for the gesture, he saw her looking at him wide-eyed and somewhat worried. 

Before he could speak, she hurriedly asked 'Jon, are you allergic to anything?'

'Only peanuts' was Jon's reply at which Arya immediately shot out of her chair and proceeded to throw a few notes on the table. 

Dinner was apparently over, he thought..._' was a peanut allergy some unforgivable sin to the Starks?'_, he wondered. When Arya noticed Jon was still seated, she almost screeched 'Up Jon, Get up quickly!' she urged. While Jon struggled to his feet, trying to ignore the itch, which was at least ten times worse now, he felt himself whisper 'Arya, Beef Bourguignon Pie doesn't have any peanuts in it'

Arya proceeded to drag him out of the restaurant and seated him in her car (she might've pushed a little, not that he minded...he liked it when she was pushy). The only words she said as the car shot forward in the direction of the nearest hospital were, 'This restaurant is famous for its pie because of their use of peanuts in the recipe'.

Jon threw his head back against the head-rest and closed his eyes. One simple, non-life-threatening date with the woman of his dreams...was that too much to ask for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our favourite couple's first date :D


	5. And so it begins

As Arya rushed him to the hospital, Jon did not have the heart to tell her his allergic reaction to peanuts was limited to the realm of itchiness. His throat and his eyes were itching enough to cause him severe discomfort but it wasn't entirely life-threatening. So, he remained silent because her concern was heartening and he liked seeing her anxious for his well-being. The only other time someone had been this worried about him was when Aegon had found out about his allergy.

At the hospital, the ER was surprisingly empty and Jon was treated to a healthy dose of anti-allergy medication in no time. The good news was that the itchiness in his eyes and throat reduced almost instantly, the bad news was, Diphenhydramine was to him what elephant tranquilizers were for most people. He felt suspended between sleep and  
wakefulness. In layman's terms, he felt drunk...and acted like it too.

He had little recollection of when they left the hospital and when Arya helped him back into the car. The lights flashing past them as the car sped down the road reminded him of a Timberlake concert he'd been guilty of attending in his youth. What was that song that Aegon had made him hear over and over? - Ah, yes 'I'm bringing sexy back'. He had loved that song - loved it. 

"What were the words again?' he asked out loud while he rested his back on the seat.

* * *

Arya felt like an idiot for causing Jon's ...predicament. A strong sensation of guilt assaulted her, and every time she looked at off-kilter Jon, the feeling just grew stronger. Jon's question brought her out of her reverie and she took her eyes off the road for a moment to look at him. He looked like he was asleep and she thought she'd imagined his question. That was until an unholy rendition of 'I'm bringing sexy back' filled the air.

_I'm bringin' sexy back, yeah_  
_Them other boys don't know how to act, yeah_  
_I think it's special, what's behind your back, yeah_  
_So turn around and I'll pick up the slack, yeah_

_Dirty babe_  
_You see these shackles, baby_  
_I'm your slave_  
_I'll let you whip me if I misbehave_  
_It's just that no one makes me feel this way_

Apparently, Jon Targaryen was prone to singing while in a state of inebriation. Though she could not fault his choice of song, the way he sang...Dear God. The man was hitting notes only dogs could hear, as a matter of fact, she was sure that the dogs around and inside her apartment complex would be in agony if his song did not cease by the time she parked her car in its reserved spot.

As she half dragged and half supported Jon out of the car, she felt his arms wrap around her and his face burrow between her neck and right shoulder. 'Not one to miss an opportunity', she thought to herself and began to backtrack her way to the elevator. The elevator doors opened with a cheerful 'ding' and thankfully it was empty. Once inside  
the lift, she extricated herself from Jon's rather comfortable hug and pressed the button for the 5th floor. Jon remained in the position she had left him in when she had turned to press the button and she felt herself smile she turned back to him.

She had never seen a more adorable drunk, and drinking was something of a sport to most Northerners. Usually, her first dates were staid and boring, nobody would ever dare offend Ned Stark's daughter in any way...but her first date with Jon had been nothing if not memorable. When she'd seen him at the Tyrell's, she had felt an emotion unlike any other. She had been drawn to him somehow, but when she discovered (from her trusty friend and confidant Myrcella) that Jon was at the party with his longtime, supermodel girlfriend she didn't see any point in thinking about the 'feeling' any longer. A few days later an excited Myrcella had called her to inform her of Jon Targaryen's break-up. While the news had definitely made some impact, she was still too much of a pragmatist (much to the disgust of her older sister, Sansa) to think that it would make any difference. But when she had crashed her car into Jon's Jaguar, it felt like fate was trying to say something.

She could tell Jon Targaryen definitely found her attractive straight away and so she had decided to play it cool. Not too cool, mind, just enough to keep him interested. When he suggested meeting again socially at the cafe she had felt indescribably happy after a long time. She didn't know why, but, Jon Targaryen had the most profound effect on her, he looked at her like she was everything he had ever wanted in life and the look filled her stomach with butterflies. If Sansa could have heard her sister's thoughts about Jon, she would cackle like a witch. Arya's thoughts on love were unlike her sister's, whose life revolved around all things romantic and ironically it wasn't Sansa who fell head over heels for a man at first sight...it was her.

After having made it to her room somehow Arya managed to take off Jon's shoes and drag him into bed. When she covered him with the coverlet, she felt one of his hands close around her wrist and tug gently. Jon pulled Arya close enough for her to feel his breath on her face. His eyes traced her face and his hand left her wrist to gently touch her lips. 

'I think...I know I'm in love with you, Arya Stark' he whispered.

Arya felt her heart race and before she could respond, his hand dropped back on the coverlet and snores filled the air. She looked at the idiotic, sleeping man-baby in her bed and felt her heart melt. If she hadn't been sure before, she was certain now. She was in love with a Targaryen. Not just any Targaryen, Jon Targaryen. Son of Rhaegar Targaryen - the man her father despised.

Yet, despite it all, she was still very much in love with him. _'Seven Hells, Father's not going to be too happy about this'_, she thought and yawned as exhaustion finally caught up with her. Too tired to even change, she lay down next to Jon on the bed. Just before falling asleep, she felt Jon pull her towards him gently and her last thought was that his hand at her waist felt like it belonged there. 


	6. What dreams may come

It was a particularly lovely dream, Jon mused, as he tugged the warm body next to him closer.

The decidedly trim body of his so-called dream could only belong to one person he thought - Arya Stark. She was the girl of his dreams, quite literally. Yet, as his hands roamed over her heavenly curves, the feel of her skin was incredibly real. It was probably the most vivid dream he had ever had, he decided. His hands itched to move in a Northerly direction, where her form would become even more enjoyable.

After a moment of hesitation, he decided to throw caution out the window.  _ It was only a dream after all _ . No one would know. 

Slowly, but surely, his hand moved up from her waist and just as he was about to reach his target a voice interrupted his journey saying, 'If that hand moves another inch it that direction Jon Targaryen, you'll know a completely new meaning of the word pain.'

Jon's eyes snapped open and the first thing he realised was that he wasn't in his room and when he looked at the dark head lying next to him he realised his provocative little dream wasn't truly a dream. He snatched his hand away from her person, feeling very embarrassed and pushed himself up.

Arya turned to face him and smiled. Jon felt his heart stop only to start beating again at twice the normal rate.

'I mean, do you really think you could move to second base so easily? Just what kind of girl do think I am?'

'Arya, I didn't - I thought I was having a dream. If I'd known...', he stammered.

'You thought you were dreaming?', she repeated slowly and then grinned like a cat. 'How often do I feature in your dreams in this state of dishabille, Jon?'

Jon felt himself flush, immediately recalling some of his more amorous dreams featuring his lovely. The truth was unrepeatable - in his dreams, her state of undress wasn't an issue, but that was because in his dreams there wasn't a stitch of clothing on either of them. 

He cleared his throat and mumbled, 'Not often.'

'Well that's disappointing', Arya said rising to sit and Jon thought she was about to leave when she proved him wrong (as she usually did) when she leaned closer to him and said, 'Because you feature rather regularly in mine.'

Jon felt himself draw closer to her as if in a trance and felt himself ask, ' I do?'

Instead of answering him, Arya put her hands on his hair and used it to tug his head closer to her own. 

Just before her lips met his, she said, 'Let me prove it to you.'

Jon didn't think of himself as some sort of Casanova, still, he'd had more than enough experience at intimacy, but all his technique and knowledge went out the window when her lips touched his. One kiss from her meant more to him than all the bodies he'd had.

As the kiss went on, the temperature of the room skyrocketed or maybe it was just him. It felt like the blood in his veins had turned molten, setting fires as it moved. 

When the kiss broke, Arya was lying on the bed and he was suspended on his hands above her. Neither of them said a word as he continued to stare at her, unable to stop. Her beauty was enthralling - he couldn't have moved away from her if his life depended on it.

'I don't think anyone's ever looked at me the way do', she said softly as she gently ran her hands through his hair.

Jon smiled, 'I don't think I've ever seen anyone as beautiful as you. I couldn't stop even if I wanted to'.

'I don't want you to stop'. she said pulling him closer to her and he instinctively understood what she was trying to say.

'You mean the world to me. This isn't just some infatuation. Do you understand what I'm saying, Arya?'

She smiled as sweet and gentle as spring and said, 'I understand. Now, will you shut up and kiss me?'

'Oh, I'll do more than that Stark. But, just so you understand, you're mine now. Mine to keep, mine to protect and mine to love. Do you think you can handle a Targaryen?' 

Before she could answer his lips met hers again and they ceased to think.

It was sometime late in the afternoon when Jon woke again. His sleep was disrupted because he couldn't feel Arya beside him anymore. When his brain started to function again he grinned like an idiot remembering just exactly what had transpired between them a few hours ago.

A Stark and a Targaryen, ice and fire.

Together they'd been - enlivening. He had once read that in Norse mythology the realms of ice and fire had touched and their coming together had created life. That's what Arya had done to him, she made him feel alive again.

His poetic thoughts were brought to end when the delicious smell of food wafted through the air. He got out of bed and picked up his pants to don them. His shirt had mysteriously gone missing. Following his nose out of the bedroom, he saw Arya standing in the kitchen with her back towards him. 

She was wearing his shirt and her hair was tied in a messy bun. Jon smiled thinking that she looked better in his shirt than he ever  had. Walking towards her as silently as possible and he put his hands around her waist.

Her body went rigid for a few seconds in surprise, and, then relaxed. 'That doesn't have peanuts in it, does it? I'm starving', he asked placing tiny kisses on her neck and collarbone.  Her answer was to turn around to face him, placing her hands around his neck and kissing him soundly.

'It's not the peanuts you have to worry about Targaryen. If anything will kill you, it's likely to be my father', she said, smiling blithely and he felt his grin evaporate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. Our lovebirds are official <3
> 
> Please excuse any grammar/ spelling errors, they shall be fixed. Eventually. :D

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse all grammar or spelling errors. I shall be reviewing and correcting sometime...soon :D
> 
> Until then - enjoy!


End file.
